We have two different kinds of monarda. Both are also called bee balm. Monarda fistulosa or Eastern Bergamot
is a native herbaceous perennial that occurs in dry soils on prairies, dry rocky woods and glade margins.
We have had this one for years.
New this year we have Moarda citriodora or Lemon Bergamot. It must have been in some butterfly seed mix that we planted.
Vertically stacked whorls of impossibly vibrant purple flowers prove irresistible to bees, butterflies, hummingbirds and just buzzing with pollinators (hence another common name for it, "bee balm"). The young leaves and flowers are edible and have been long used to lend a lemony-citrusy taste to herbal teas, sweets, and even liquors. They are also excellent as cuts with a long vase life.
As I have mentioned this year the regular rainfall has produced an amazing array of garden flowers.The rain and humidity has also produced an explosion of fungi . Here are just a few of the mushrooms in yesterdays walk in the woods. There is much to learn from these silent beauties.
As I have mentioned this year the regular rainfall has produced an amazing array of garden flowers.The rain and humidity has also produced an explosion of fungi . Here are just a few of the mushrooms in yesterdays walk in the woods. There is much to learn from these silent beauties.
I recently came across this powerful poem by Les Murray, a revered Australian poet. You may let me
know how it affected you.
An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow
The word goes round Repins, the murmur goes round Lorenzinis, at Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers, the Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands and men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club: There's a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can't stop him.
The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile and drained of motion. The crowds are edgy with talk and more crowds come hurrying. Many run in the back streets which minutes ago were busy main streets, pointing: There's a fellow weeping down there. No one can stop him.
The man we surround, the man no one approaches simply weeps, and does not cover it, weeps not like a child, not like the wind, like a man and does not declaim it, nor beat his breast, nor even sob very loudly - yet the dignity of his weeping
holds us back from his space, the hollow he makes about him in the midday light, in his pentagram of sorrow, and uniforms back in the crowd who tried to seize him stare out at him, and feel, with amazement, their minds longing for tears as children for a rainbow.
Some will say, in the years to come, a halo or force stood around him. There is no such thing. Some will say they were shocked and would have stopped him but they will not have been there. The fiercest manhood, the toughest reserve, the slickest wit amongst us
trembles with silence, and burns with unexpected judgements of peace. Some in the concourse scream who thought themselves happy. Only the smallest children and such as look out of Paradise come near him and sit at his feet, with dogs and dusty pigeons.
Ridiculous, says a man near me, and stops his mouth with his hands, as if it uttered vomit - and I see a woman, shining, stretch her hand and shake as she receives the gift of weeping; as many as follow her also receive it
and many weep for sheer acceptance, and more refuse to weep for fear of all acceptance, but the weeping man, like the earth, requires nothing, the man who weeps ignores us, and cries out of his writhen face and ordinary body
not words, but grief, not messages, but sorrow, hard as the earth, sheer, present as the sea - and when he stops, he simply walks between us mopping his face with the dignity of one man who has wept, and now has finished weeping.
Evading believers, he hurries off down Pitt Street.
Our trumpet vine (Campsis radians) grows on the southern fence by the hot tub. It has flowered well this year especially with our extra rainfall. It is native to North America and can surprisingly grow to 33 feet in length. It has showy trumpet shaped flowers.
It is persistently invasive and I constantly pull out its seedlings from nearby.
Trumpet vine
Eleven orange trumpets silently pour their radiant peace in all directions not violently to bring down walls but gently as their green leaved vines victoriously over climb
Just when I said we were through with lilies we got a surprise as in Surprise Lily (Lycoris squamigera), this plant in the amaryllis family. Long green leaves in April and May die away. The flowers appear dramatically from the ground on long stalks in July (and usually) August - a true surprise.
Iron weed ( Vernonia gigantic) is a very tall native perennial in the aster family.
It is over 6 feet tall and silently appears on the edge of the meadow and woods.
Its purple flowers are striking.
It is self-incompatible (SI) which is best-studied and particularly common in flowering plants. In plants with SI, when a pollen grain produced in a plant reaches a stigma of the same plant or another plant with a matching allele or genotype, the process of pollen germination, pollen-tube growth, ovule fertilization, or embryo development is inhibited, and consequently no seeds are produced. SI is one of the most important means of preventing inbreeding and promoting the generation of new genotypes in plants.
Ironweed
There is a shade of purple in this flower near summer's end that makes you proud to be alive in such a world, and thrilled to know the gift of sight. It seems a color sent from memory or dream. In fields, along old trails, at pasture edge, the ironweed bares its vivid tint, profoundest violet, a note from farthest star and deepest time, the glow of sacred royalty and timbre of eternity right here beside a dried-up stream.
Cleome (Cleome spinosa) is a flowering plant in family Cleomaceae. It is also known as spider flower or bee plant.
Cleome is a garden plant that can reach 6 feet tall. It is an annual that re-seeds easily. It grows all summer long.
Large clusters of flowers bloom from bottom to top with attractive flowers with 3 inch long stamens giving them the name spider flower.
CLEOME
for Curt Hoffman(1945-1998)
So thick on the ground they look like weeds, Cleome come up, it seems from every Seed they sow. Winter doesn't daunt them, So in spring they're a small carpet spread Between the daffodils, a soft, mild green. Soon it's textured; some (part of some design) Rising above the rest, so saving their lives. Their stems grow thick as toothpicks, skewers, Pencils, dowels over the long season. Downy stem hairs coarsen, pricking careless hands.
All this noticing came after I'd planted Them myself. Before, they were only tall, feathery Flowers in Curt's garden÷pink, shades of pink From hot to pale to blush; elegant Lacy globes of bloom, some a handspan full, Small parachutes that kept opening upward, Flowers for dreaming in, for cradling The intricate airs, the light of the world, And for starlight. He taught me The name÷clee-OH-may÷rounding the sound with A kissing mouth, planting them Part of the passionate universe.
Not a man's flower, you'd think, not phlox Or hosta, or pungent marigold. But Curt could surprise you that way. Spiky And strong-stemmed, he could bloom in a minute With tenderness, hold out a delicate Hand, invite you to dream. Soft as petals, His eyes would widen at the spaces his Imagination held, the light cradled there.
My cleome came up on their own this year, Some mixed in with the four-o-clocks, Three in the sidewalk cracks. One's pink, but I Remember planting only white last year. Likely that's accident, just seedy persistence, Some way, through several seasons. Or I'm just Forgetful. But maybe it's a gift From that same passionate universe where my friend Lives now, still teaching and naming and Growing, at home in the surprising light.
I have had red hot poker plants (Kniphofia) for years in many areas of my gardens. Now they are on the edge of the meadow. They are in a genus of perennial flowering plants in the family Asphodelaceae, first described in 1794. Common names also include tritons and torch lily. The flowers provide copious nectar.
Happy Fourth of July -as you enjoy the fireworks you
The day lilies have continued to produce some beauties.
These orange day lilies are like the group we see along the highways.
The deer have made a bed in the middle of a large patch of day lilies where I can
see their body shape indentation. Unfortunately I am asleep at that time
of night so I cannot roust them.
These yellow day lilies were two years old when we purchased our house in 1976.
There are five stands of them and they are going strong at age 48. You can see they have that old school look.
The Day Lily
The magnificent perianths Of the Day Lilies with their six Spreading bright orange arms (funnel-formed) Fixed in their clustered colonies Absent of any luring scent Still attracts the bees And the poets aesthetic eyes. Oblique, penetrating sunrays Shine through the high canopied trees Directly onto their blossoms Seemingly glowing like embers In a campers dying campfire; And not unlike the fire, remain Briefly beautiful and then die.
